Luciferian Liturgy
Lucifer Rising
by Father Nate Leved
There are several bleeding endangered species
lurking upon our Dark list. It must be madding to
them to feel the power of the Dark Spirit, running
free, unfettered upon the open range of the wind
like an unbridled stallion with ruby eyes and ebon
silken wings that create the astral winds as they
work the ether, cut by the great spiral horn that
clears the way. Even such motley fools can feel
the fiery hoof beets as they echo across the abyss,
charging straight for them with unquenched flame
discharging from the mighty nostrils, the smell
of brimstone, hot upon his breath.
Powered by Hellfire he comes at a hard gallop,
to bring the new age of Lucifer rising. From the
depths to the heights He comes cloaked in Black
from the depths of the flame he rises on the wind
and spreads His arms in welcome to His own
who await his presence and always have. The
time is right and this is the ascension of the
DarkLite upon the wings of glory as it streaks
across the night time sky, mistaken for a shooting
star from somewhere far away.
"Look at that," utters the child as it traces the beautiful
and fiery glow across the inky sky in the Sides of the
North where lies the Summerland that the ignorant
call the Abyss for they cannot see the wonderment,
hidden by the velvet cloak or delve the depths of the
astral caves where the maidens of the moon sequester
themselves when the time of darkness is upon the
Earth. But the time of shadows is ours to explore many
hidden things that dwell where the prying eyes of the
infidel cannot see or corrupt or belittle or disrupt the
astral midnight rainbow that shimmers in the glow
of the dark pools that await that which is to come to
drink and dream of their waters and Luciferian delights.
The flow of everlasting darkness envelopes the All
except for the brief punctuation of the planets as they
swirl around in their tick-tock orbs, darting hither and
yon in the land of nod where the satyrs dance
and clap their hands in the DarkLite of magic where
anything is possible and is wont to happen at the
slightest provocation when heads are turned and
the lamps of the unsuspecting grow dim. Lucifer is
risen! He brightens the night of many colors and
fills our hearts with the cool darkness of his touch.
We know who we are and that we belong here in
the DarkLite on this magical world where we may
be as gods and fellow creators if we will but
endeavor to learn the words to the tune of the
master, produced upon the great hormonium of
creation where chaos becomes reality, peppered
with the fantasy of lovers who stroke the breasts
of their beloved in the mist of the forest night.
Inviting is the grass by the rainbow pools of the
astral way where life begins and the Pipes of Pan
may be softly heard upon the breeze as it haltingly
passes those who embrace on the tender green
shoots and explore the astral caves of delight
where the children of Lucifer are thought into
being amid the fires of passion.
So be it mote!
leved
Copyright 1996-2003, Nate Leved, all rights reserved.
"May the Dark Sun light your journey."